


Petrichor

by floweringbloom



Category: Dreaming of Sunshine - Silver Queen
Genre: F/M, Silver Queen's Dreaming of Sunshine Universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-26 18:50:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18722872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/floweringbloom/pseuds/floweringbloom
Summary: Downtime in Suna, or: Shikako and Gaara talk.





	Petrichor

**Author's Note:**

  * For [browny811](https://archiveofourown.org/users/browny811/gifts).



The rain hits them like a deluge.

The burgeoning stormclouds have cast Suna in dappled shadow, the straight lines of their buildings and the dirt of their streets, and Shikako breathes in the scent of ozone and dust in the rain. She could stop herself from getting soaked, of course - she's a jounin and ANBU and not exactly helpless - but something about the sound of the rain pounding down on the ground and the shouts and shrieks of civilians racing for cover makes her slant a glance at Gaara beside her. At that moment, he's just a fifteen-year-old boy who's starting to grimace up at the sky, and Shikako takes his hand to better tug him out from under the heavy fall of rain.

The reflexive sand over his skin retreats at her touch, and beneath it his hand is warm and dry. Shikako sets an easy pace to the nearest awning, uncaring of the rain that seeps into her hair, and she's smiling by the time they're both under cover even as she has to shake water from her sandals and wring dry her braid. Gaara casts a bemused eye up at the canvas over their heads and says, "You could have stayed dry without... this."

"Well, yes," Shikako says, "but sometimes you just have to experience something, you know?"

Gaara, evidently, does not know. Shikako smiles at him anyway.

"It's like," she starts, "a movie, or a play. You might be able to read the script or the direction, but nothing really compares to watching it yourself."

Gaara considers her. "And you feel that way about a summer rainstorm in Suna?"

"I feel that way about a lot of things," Shikako says, and it's even true. What could possibly match the chill of the Land of Snow, the heat of Suna's deserts? What memory could match Mei and Zabuza's wedding, with Haku's snowflakes drifting down through the air? She has long grown used to having to find the beauty in life where she can take it, and this - dust coalescing into muddy puddles, dry heat cooled by the rush of rain - definitely counts. She looks at Gaara. Gaara looks back, curiosity in the uncertain curve of his mouth.

"You mentioned food," she prompts instead of trying to put words to her wandering thoughts. Something in Gaara's expression shifts as he watches her, and she wonders if he understands after all.

He's the one who takes her hand, then. She starts conversation but he prods her about her life; when he mentions Mist and Haku, she launches into the tale with the ease of someone who's told it a half-dozen times before, and when she drops his hand to drink in the rain and the way her sandals splash in inch-deep water his lips twitch and he easily lets her go. Shikako finds herself halfway through the tale of the wandering swordsmith Sazanami before she has the thought to feel self-conscious about it, and by then they're seated across a plate of gyoza and she's struck by the soft edges of Gaara's faint smile. "You seem happy," he says, and it makes her pause. 

"Yes," Shikako says, startled, "I guess I am. Are you?"

People here treat Gaara with respect where there once was fear, as though they too can feel the way his chakra has sunk down into the sand of Suna's very foundations. From miles out, Suna feels just a little like Gaara of the Desert.

Gaara, who belongs to the desert, and who the desert belongs to.

"I am content," Gaara says with deliberation. "You once said... I would make a good Kazekage. And..."

"Being Kazekage has been good for you, too," Shikako says. She meets Gaara's gaze and has a moment of crystalline understanding, of responsibility and duty and the care that drives people to greatness. Gaara will be ready. Here, at least, Shikako has no more she can do.

"I'm glad," Shikako says quietly, intently. "I'm glad you have Suna. That Suna has you. You deserve it."

Gaara holds her gaze, his pale green stare almost unnerving. "Thank you," he says with intense sincerity, and Shikako drops her gaze to the teapot only to glance up at his rasp of her name. "Shikako. You deserve happiness, too."

Shikako can't help the wry pull of her smile, but for once it doesn't come with the reminder of the weight of the world. "I know," she says, and slips her fingers into Gaara's on the table. The white noise of the rain fills her ears, the scent of it lingering on her tongue, and for the first time she feels like she means it. She looks at him steadily, and his fingers tighten on hers. "One day."

"Good," Gaara says. This time, he doesn't let go.


End file.
